


2017 Supergirl Kink Meme Fills

by Alsike



Category: Supergirl (TV 2015)
Genre: Alien Biology, Alien/Human Relationships, Anonymous Sex, Blindfolds, Crossdressing, F/F, Genderbending, Kink Meme, Restraints, Sensation Play, Sexual Roleplay, Spanking, Strap-Ons, Underwear
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-12
Updated: 2017-12-12
Packaged: 2019-02-13 23:23:12
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 11,659
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12994767
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Alsike/pseuds/Alsike
Summary: Short fics dashed off for the kink meme.1) Kara/Alex, Spanking (PG-15)2) Kara/Alex, Non-human sexual organs (R)3) Alex/Maggie, Gender play (Hard R)4) M'gann/Maggie, First times (PG-13)5) Lucy/Alura, Sensation play/Anonymous sex (Weak R)





	1. Supergirl: Alex/Kara, spanking (PG-15)

When the first strike landed on her bottom, Alex didn't know what was going on. It had been a rough week and she had nearly died at least once (the second time was debatable), but Kara had saved her. They were making it up with movies and roughhousing on the couch. Alex messing up Kara's hair, tugging at her floppy sweatshirt. Kara, her strength restrained, putting her feet on Alex's face, and finding the ticklish spots that she knew too well. And now this.

Alex was flopped over Kara's knees, ass in the air, face in the sofa cushion. Kara held her down with one hand, as if she was nothing, as if she was a bug, and swatted her.

Alex gasped as the second sting turned into a low burn. "Kara, what--"

Another, harder this time, cracked across her ass, and Alex went still. She stopped fighting. This wasn't roughhousing anymore. This was something bigger than that.

Kara hit her a third time, and Alex took it the way she took blows in the training room, calm, steady, accepting it as educational. The sting lasted longer on her already tender ass, the burn that remained sensitizing her more.

"Kara," she said softly. "What are you doing?"

There was a small gulp, a choke. "Sorry. I--" 

Kara started to wriggle, trying to get out, get away from her.

"Kara." Alex let a little command slide into her voice. "Hit me again."

Kara went still. "What?"

"It's okay."

"It's not."

Alex swiveled slightly, not leaving her lap, and looked up at Kara's face. Her usually implacable Kryptonian had red cheeks and she balled both hands into fists, pressing them against the couch behind her.

Though she was out of uniform, she didn't look like Kara Danvers. The always optimistic, always awkward persona Kara had made up for her college years had never had a place on the couch when it was just her and Alex, not after the Supergirl reveal at least. There was an ache in her eyes, loss there and exhaustion, along with the embarrassment.

"Are you okay?"

Kara sagged slowly. She rubbed her head, mussing her already flopping down bun further. "I shouldn't have--"

Alex reached up and took her hand. She pulled it down and placed it on her ass. The pressure against the sensitive area made a strange sensation roll through Alex's belly. Alex swallowed and forced a smile. "I'm used to no holds barred sparring. I don't care if you smack my ass while we're hanging out."

Kara's eyes were wide, staring at her hand, where it was planted on Alex's butt, then staring at Alex. Alex couldn't look away from her face, feeling her hand, feeling her hand feel her ass, and this-- this was actually totally not okay and she had no idea why she was pretending it wasn't a big deal.

"Hit me again," Alex said slowly. "And tell me why."

"You almost died," Kara said, her voice low and shaky. "You almost died for that whiny little nobody." Anger rose on her face, and her hand lifted off Alex's ass and then she struck her again. Alex, unprepared, let out a yelp and buried her face in the cushions, pushing her ass up a little towards Kara's hand. 

"You're not allowed to die. Not until it's some huge world ending threat and we both sacrifice ourselves for it. Okay?" She hit Alex again, and the words and the spanking knotted together in her gut, and Alex moaned, grateful it was muffled by the cushion. 

"That's how it's going to be. I'm not going to let you die before me, and you said you don't want to live after me, so it's together or nothing." The next strike burned. It felt like Alex's whole ass was a bruise. But the throb in her core was only heightened by the pain. "So don't be stupid. Okay? Don't you dare take yourself away from me."

The last blow was hard and heavy and, Alex sobbed into the cushion. "Okay," she mumbled. "Okay. I promise, Kara."

Kara went still and surprised under her. "You-- I. Oh no. I'm so sorry. I hit you too hard."

Alex shook her head, but she wasn't looking up so she didn't know what reaction Kara had to her denial. "No." She shoved herself up, trying to rub the tears off her face. "No. Just enough. I'm so sorry I scared you."

Kara breathed out, leaning back. Then she scooped her up to hold her close. She buried her face in Alex’s shoulder, squashing her against her chest, and shut her eyes. "You did."

Alex pressed her face into Kara's neck. Her ass ached and Kara held her so tight. It all felt so good that she forgot why she'd been so quick to risk herself before. If she could have this the whole time, she wanted to live as long as she could. "I'm sorry. I love you. Together or not at all, yeah?"

She felt Kara smile against her cheek, and a soft hmm of approval in her ear. The embrace grew gentler, but just as warm and snug.

Together or not at all.

#


	2. Supergirl: Kara/Alex, non-human sexual organs (R)

Kara was spooning up against Alex's back when Alex felt it. It was a stirring, something hot and a little wet making a tacky spot on the back of Alex's thigh, Kara's flannel pajama pants sticking to it.

Kara was passed out, her arm over Alex's side, her breath hot and even against Alex's neck. It had been an energetic day, with CADMUS running around trying some of their usual nonsense, and Kara having to race from end to end of the city to stop it. Somewhere in there, Kara had been doused with a bucket of mysterious chemicals, but she hadn't shown any ill effects at the time, and after they'd saved the world, Alex had made her stay in medical, checking her over until she was nearly crying from boredom and exhaustion.

When they'd gotten back to Kara's apartment, Kara had pulled her into her bed, curled up around her, and gone near instantly to sleep.

But now there was this.

Kara let out a little sigh and rolled her hips against Alex's ass, and something-- _ something-- _ moved in a swirl underneath the pajamas, hot and making the flannel rough against her skin.

Alex stayed as still as she could as her mind was swooping through all the options. CADMUS? She was sure this had something to do with CADMUS. But what? And was it dangerous? 

"Mmh." Kara flopped onto her back, her hair spreading like a silken web over the pillow, and she shifted, stretching her shoulders, then pushing down the waistband of her pajamas, exposing the high, curved bones of her hips. Her shirt had ridden up already, and her sleek belly caught the sunlight coming in the window. Alex swallowed, her mouth suddenly dry.

Then Kara slowly arched, lifting her hips, and sliding her pajamas down her thighs. They caught oddly over her crotch, and she pulled just a little more--sleepy frustrated, but still not so much that she'd rip them with her strength--and then they came down.

With a sigh, Kara dropped back onto the mattress, and let her hand curl around . . . herself.

Alex did not move. She did not even breathe.

Certainly, Dr. Alex Danvers was the foremost expert on Kryptonian biology, save for perhaps her mom. But she was a microbiologist. She didn't usually pay all that much attention to . . . the bigger picture. Today, however, the _bigger picture_ was no longer letting her ignore it. 

The . . . organ that was curled so comfortably in Kara's hand was dissimilar to any human organ usually found in that area. It was curved and gently tapering, the lower side, which Kara's hand was slowly stroking up and down, was slick and smooth. Kara's fingertips and thumb were running along the upper edge, moving their way up near the tip. There, the two sides came together. The organ wasn't cylindrical. It seemed to be a flat surface that had curled in on itself to fit in Kara's hand. It opened just a little to try to catch Kara's fingertips in its fold, and Alex caught sight of a deep rich blue inside, unexpected for any human-type flesh tone. Kara let her fingertips be caught for a moment, then tugged them out and sighed.

Alex deeply considered whether the right course of action was to just leave the room and let Kara sleepily masturbate in peace. But this wasn't  _ normal _ . Kara had never gotten . . . aroused while curled up against her before. Otherwise Alex would have been a lot more familiar with the particulars of her alien genitalia.

A very tiny voice inside Alex was scolding her with wild fury. It sounded a little bit like her mom.  _ You call yourself an expert on Kryptonian biology and you don't even know that their basic morphology is different from your own? _ But that wasn't fair. Alex had done scans, she'd done physicals. She'd even seen Kara getting out of the shower more than once (on accident!). There had been no sign of this! New, or just hidden? The comfort with which Kara was touching herself suggested that it wasn't new.

Until this point, the organ had been rather small and delicate, barely longer than the breadth of Kara's hand. Kara stroked up the front now, opening it up so it unfolded, revealing the rich blue interior, the surface of which seemed to move and flow like liquid. 

The flat of the organ was the breadth of three fingers, and its width at the top was less than half a centimeter. But as it met with the other--more human-like--tissue between Kara's legs, it both thickened and widened as it curled back up into its folded shape. Kara wrapped her hand around it right at the base, taking a firm grip, and then she moaned. As she did, the tip of the organ extended, growing from a spare inch above the side of her hand to two, then three. It was sliding out of her, pushing through the pressure of her hand. And then, with a slick, sliding sound it disappeared back in.

Alex gaped. If it wasn't all the fault of CADMUS, that was why she hadn't seen it. It was retractable.

This was getting inappropriate. Alex's face felt hot, and watching Kara arch and moan as she pleasured herself was really not her place, even if her scientific curiosity made it hard to look away.

The organ had been right up against the back of her thigh. Alex swallowed hard. If the pajama pants hadn't been there, she would have touched it.

What did it feel like? Smooth and hot on the back, textured and velvety on the inside?

No. Alex clamped down tight on those thoughts. She could feel the response she had to them, and that was nothing to be explored further. She had to wake Kara up and make sure she was all right.

"Kara," she whispered. "Kara. Wake up."

"Mhm?" Kara didn't seem to be much more awake than she had been. Her hand was still gripping the base of her organ as it retracted and extended through the friction of her palm. She squinted a little and smiled lazily. "Alex?"

"Hey." Alex moved a little closer, reaching out to touch her cheek. "I just need to check to see if you're okay."

"Alex," Kara murmured again, softly. Her hand visibly tightened on her organ, and she gave a breathy little gasp. "Please."

Alex froze like she'd been turned to ice. "Kara," she said, her voice low and uncertain. "Kara. You're not in your normal mind. You don't want to do this."

Kara shook her head. "No. Want," she mumbled. She released herself and reached out, grasping Alex firmly and pulling her down on top of her.

Alex yelped and struggled, but it was no use. Kara had her firmly embraced, her face mashed into Kara's boob, and Kara's . . . Kara's organ nestling itself against the bare skin of Alex's belly. Her shirt had ridden up, and Kara tugged it the rest of the way out of the way, pulling it off her and throwing it aside. The organ was like a snake of heat, searing Alex's skin. Kara gave a little groan as if the pressure of Alex's body was exactly what she wanted.

Alex whimpered.

Holy crap. Kara was always hotter than normal humans, but this part of her burned, throbbing at the pace of Kara's heartbeat, flexing, muscular even at its thinnest point. It flattened against Alex's belly, leaving a trail of something sticky and damp. Kara spread her knees, nestling Alex between her legs, her thighs keeping her lower body as captive as her arms kept her upper. Slowly she started to roll her hips, grinding the undulating organ into the soft part of Alex's lower abdomen.

Alex gasped as it approached the waistband of her shorts. It moved, as strong as any other part of Kara, flicking down and playing with the cleft of her hips and dipping under just slightly.

Alex took a harsh, deep breath. She needed a plan. What was the plan?

To be perfectly honest with herself, there was only one place this was going. And she was already shirtless and between Kara's legs. It wasn't like the situation could get that much worse. So, she might as well help . . . hurry it along.

She swallowed, then reached down, lifting her torso enough to get her hand between them. Her fingers stroked against Kara's side and she sighed happily into the top of Alex's head. Her grip loosened, and her fingers started stroking Alex's hair.

In all honestly, that didn't help the situation. Kara petting her head and murmuring, "Alex" all soft and sleepy, just intensified the heat that was building in Alex's core from the sight of the organ and its clear . . . interest in her, um, other types of organs. But she had a plan now, and Alex always followed through.

She used the loosened grip to sit up a little, letting her palm run more purposefully over Kara's skin. She was so soft, until she wanted to be hard, and then she was harder than diamond.

Swirling her fingertips in tiny loops over her skin, Alex approached Kara's hips. And then she went for it.

Her hand closed around the base of the organ.

Its heat seared her palm, and Kara gasped, arching, grinding it into Alex's grip. Kara’s hands fell to the mattress beside her, and she grasped it. Alex heard springs strain and fibers pop. But she was too focused on the task at hand. In hand. Currently squirming and arching in her hand.

Alex slowly sat back on Kara's hips, settling onto her spread thighs, and started running her thumb up the back of it. It arched, and her fingers slid into the fold. So warm and liquid and velvety, Alex gasped. The blue space moved around her fingers like thousands of tiny cilia, caressing the tips and sending shocks of pleasure through her hands and up her arms.

"Fuck," she murmured. Then she bent forward, an inexplicable urge to feel it on her face. The tip of it opened and licked up under her chin. Feeling those cilia on her face, she couldn't bear it, but pressed in further so they licked over her mouth and up her nose. She gasped into it, her hands working and pulsing at the base. Kara, under her, started to let out short little desperate cries. Alex opened her mouth for it, and it dipped inside, taking her tongue into its fold. Alex sucked, and it seemed to suck back, pulsing and thickening in her mouth. Pleasure burned through her, hot and fierce in her gut. And then, under her, Kara arched, her body going rigid, a pulse, and the organ lurched out of Alex's mouth, lapped across her cheek and nose, and splashed her face with hot fluid.

There was a moment of silence. Alex found herself gasping for breath, sweaty and oh so wet. Salty, clear liquid that smelled like the sea dripped from Alex's chin. Her own pajama shorts were so soaked that she thought she might have come.

"Ulp."

The squeak that came from Kara was very unlike the sleepy murmurs that had been coming from her before. 

Kara's eyes were wide open and awake. And horrified.

Alex looked down at her hand, still wrapped around the base of Kara's organ. She released it. With a schloop, the organ retracted back in, and Kara jerked up her pajamas, skidding away from Alex up the bed. 

For a long moment they stared at each other. Then Kara passed Alex her shirt. Alex wiped her face with it and put it on.

"I think we need to go back to the lab," Alex said.

Kara nodded, her face bright red, her demeanor horrified.

#

It turned out that the chemical CADMUS had spilled on Kara was of Kryptonian origin. On Krypton, part of being extracted from the birthing matrix involved receiving an injection that would mute all sexual response. Any sexual activity would involve a good deal of mental preparation and physical stimulation simply to start up the chemical responses. 

Some Kryptonians thought that was unnatural, so they developed a serum that would cancel out the injection and rebuild the sensitivity to sexual stimulation. The formula was strong enough that Daxamians used it recreationally. And for Kryptonians who had never dealt with that kind of chemical response, it could hit like a brick.

"'m sorry for molesting you with my alien sex parts," Kara mumbled from where she was sitting on the floor in the hologram chamber, the Alura AI having already departed.

Alex sank down next to her. "It's all right. I'm sorry for molesting your alien sex parts."

They rested their heads against each others'. Silence reigned for a moment.

"Honestly, though," Alex said. "It was pretty hot."

Kara went stiff. She buckled over her waist, protectively covering her groin. "Oh no," she said, the words half a whimper.

Alex very gently set her hand on Kara's thigh. Kara peeked up to meet her gaze, her eyes scared and desperate and endlessly trusting. It was the trusting that was the most important part. 

"Want to do it again?"

#

 


	3. Supergirl: Maggie/Alex, gender play (Hard R)

 

It all started with the lingerie incident. 

"Babe," Maggie said eventually, once she'd figured out that A) she wasn't being played, and B) Alex was trying way too hard. "Why don't you take that thing off and put on some sweatpants or something?"

She realized she'd misstepped when Alex turned white with humiliation. 

"You don't like it?"

Maggie hesitated and chose her words carefully, cursing every man who made 'does this dress make me look fat' a joke instead of the sign of brutally low self esteem that it could be. "I like it. But you don't."

No change.

"You don't look all that comfortable."

Alex stared hard at the floor. "You've seen me naked."

"You were more comfortable naked." Maggie sighed. "I'm not that into getting dressed up for. I think you're sexy when  _ you _ think you're sexy."

It seemed to start to come together for Alex, slowly and uncomfortably, but inexorably. "I never think I'm sexy."

"Shut up," Maggie said. "Go put on your hot DEO sweatpants and a beater and I'll make you think you're sexy."

#

Maggie liked looking at Alex in the mornings, when she was sleepy, before she put any make-up on. Maggie didn't say what she thought about waterproof mascara before going into the DEO, because she got it--things you learned young tended to stick with you. And she'd met Alex's mom. The weird way Kara was kind of like her mini-me . . . well, Alex's mom was a perfect example of Doing Things the Right Way. Alex was still trying to sort out  _ her _ way from the Right Way. Maggie felt that being super excellent at going down on girls was a good step away from the Right Way and was proud for encouraging that in her. Maggie liked helping people find themselves. Sometimes they were just behind the door. Sometimes they were buried deep.

Some days, Maggie thought Alex needed excavating with a backhoe.

"You got me underwear." Alex's tone was flat.

Maggie threw the pack at her, not worried her asshole girlfriend (even injured as she was) wouldn't be able to catch it before it smacked her in the face.

"You got me boys' underwear?" Alex's voice wasn't flat anymore. It was a little mystified, but there was a touch of pleasure in there, or . . . more accurately, Maggie guessed, thwarted discomfort. She figured the only other person who had ever gotten Alex underwear was her mom. She could imagine what that was like. Alex not wanting to be in the section, going for plain black when her mom was picking out ones with flowers on them, her mom not understanding when Alex almost started to cry as she refused the hi-cut briefs. 

"They're comfy," Maggie said, going easy on her. "I have the same kind. You'll like them."

Alex did like them. She also laughed a little when Maggie whipped out the three t-shirts she'd bought her also from the young men's section of Target: Cap, Hulk and Black Panther. Maggie caught her wearing only the underwear and the Hulk t-shirt while hanging out on the couch with her sister one night.

When Kara got up to leave she stopped to speak to Maggie on her way out. "She looks cute like that," she said softly.

"I think so."

Kara was someone who'd been there for the shopping trips, for the moments where Eliza pushed the Right Way and Alex scrambled for  _ her _ way. If Kara approved, that meant something.

#

Alex had always struck her as a little too skinny. She didn't take care of herself. But it meant that she sometimes fit men's pants like they were meant to fit. Maggie liked the cut of boys skinny jeans on her, soft cords and funny plaids. She liked her in converse on a lazy day, the fitted short-sleeved button downs and slouchy hoodies that drooped to mid-thigh. She liked her with her hair tied up out of the way. 

Maggie wasn't super into men. But she liked bois, and sometimes she thought that Alex would like being treated like one.

#

"You're serious?" Alex looked at the clothes laid out for her on the bed. "You're dressing me now?"

Maggie sat on the dresser and swung her feet. "You can think of it as some weird sex thing if it's easier."

Alex glared. "Is it a weird sex thing?"

"Depends." Maggie grinned. "You want to pack?"

Alex was still not entirely familiar with all of the terms that Maggie used to refer to various breeds and varieties of sex, but she knew this one and went stiff and awkward. "I'm not going outside wearing one of those."

Maggie nodded. "Figured you'd say that. Got you an extra pair of socks instead."

Alex looked confused again, but she slowly stripped off and started to dress. Boxer briefs, tight-ass sports bra. Cords, button-down, bomber jacket. Maggie put the product in her hair and combed it back, away from her face. Then she wrapped her arm around her waist to hold her close between her legs and unfastened the cords. She slipped in the pair of socks, adjusted, and buttoned her back up again. Alex squeaked adorably.

Alex stared at herself in the mirror. She shifted awkwardly behind her socks. "You really want me to leave the house like this?"

Maggie watched her. Did she think she was going to get jumped? But no. That wasn't it. Maggie spotted a shy smile at herself in the mirror. She was starting to straighten up, to hold herself a little differently. Maggie handed over a cap and sunglasses. "You look cute. Let's get coffee."

Maggie had dressed carefully also. Alex would look like a teenage boy whatever she did, so it was better she not too obviously look like she was robbing the cradle. She wore leggings and an oversized blouse, and girly-cut hoodie, put her hair up up a messy bun, and came out to meet Alex who she'd made wait at the door. Alex's lips parted in surprise at the sight of her, and a little pleased, Maggie put her arm through Alex's and tugged her down the five flights of her walk-up to the street.

They wandered, no one really giving them a second glance. At first all Alex could talk about was whether someone was staring or thought she looked weird, or--why the socks, really? She stopped eventually, and they talked about inconsequential things. Maggie found Alex's arm around her shoulders, guiding her lightly. She stayed between her and other traffic. She steered her into a coffee shop, and asked, "what can I get you?"

Maggie let her have her head, and she came back blushing and a little pleased. "I think the barista flirted with me."

"You should have got her number."

Alex looked surprised, and then shook her head. "I might have mentioned my girlfriend." She nudged Maggie's shoulder. "Sure she looked over and gave in right there. Can't compete with the prettiest girl in the place."

Maggie smiled up at him, not wanting to respond with any of the snark that came to mind, not when Alex was like this, charming and confident and comfortable in his own skin. Alex cupped her cheek and leaned in and took a kiss like he was owed it.

That was pretty nice too.

#

Alex started the kissing, but Maggie kept it up. They made it back up the stairs to her place, the door shut behind them and Alex's back hit the door and Maggie was pulling him down taking his mouth, low and high and decadent. Alex was gaspy and intent, trying to keep a little of his dignity intact.  _ Boys _ .

Maggie cupped his socks. Alex let out a little whimper. "You hard?" Maggie murmured. "Did I get you hard?"

Alex's face was going pink. Little boys always wanted to get laid, but couldn't bear to show vulnerability. Maggie squeezed, then batted her eyelashes. "You feel so--"

"You got me hard," Alex mumbled, face glowing with embarrassment. "Can I--"

"Yeah," Maggie said, staying breathy and playing it young. She pushed the strap-on into Alex's hand. "Just let me get ready, okay?"

She gave Alex a little time, listening to the swears, and peeled off her leggings and underwear, staying just in the long shirt. She found the lube, hesitated, and then grabbed condoms also. It was kind of amusing. She hadn't fucked a guy in years. She wasn't entirely sure she remembered how it was done.

When she stepped out, Alex was looking nervous and unhappy in her white undershirt and boxer briefs.  She was packing now, the straining curve of the strap on hardly differentiable from an erection. It looked good against her bony hips, and Alex scrunched the hem of her t-shirt, tugging it up just enough to offer a peek at her abs.

Maggie set the things she'd brought with her on the side table and then laced her fingers through Alex's, making sure to not pay any obvious attention to her crotch. She tugged at the collar of Alex's t-shirt and leaned in, kissing the hollow of Alex's throat. "Come over here. I want to make out with you while sitting in your lap."

Alex got blushy, but less unhappy, and let Maggie pull him over to the couch. He cupped the back of her neck--commanding in a way Alex rarely was--and kissed her. "You're the best girlfriend."

"I know." Maggie pushed Alex down and climbed onto his lap. She scraped his hair back behind his ears and leaned in to nip at his lower lip. "Anyone ever tell you how handsome you are?"

Alex pinked up again, and Maggie leaned in to kiss him, open and wet. 

In a few moments, Alex was gasping into her mouth, and Maggie let her hand roam down Alex's belly to the cock that was straining against the boxer briefs. She played it like an accident--feeling, recognizing. " _ Oh _ ." Then she took hold, and Alex gave a desperate little cry and jerked his hips up into her hand. Maggie leaned into her hold, grinding it into Alex. "You like that?"

Alex whimpered.

"May I--" Maggie tucked her fingers into the fly of the briefs, unbuttoning them, and extracted the cock, giving it enough angled pressure to make Alex moan again. Alex gulped a little, looking down between them at Maggie's hand, holding him, and Maggie could feel her heartrate increase. 

Maggie let go, reaching for the lube, and felt Alex flinch as if to pull back, hide the cock as if she felt exposed with it poking out like that. Maggie slammed her hand down on Alex's wrist before she could grab it. "Nuh uh. If you're my boyfriend, I have a proprietary interest in that. You don't get to keep it from me." She took Alex's hand and squeezed lube into the palm. "Now stroke it. Get yourself ready for me. I'm just gonna watch."

Fumblingly, Alex took hold of the cock. With awkward, unpracticed motions, the lube got spread up it, and Alex started gripping, stroking. Face sweaty, Alex looked from the cock to Maggie's face and back again, going redder and redder each time. 

"Feeling good?"

Alex nodded, shoulders scrunched.

Maggie slowly pulled off her shirt, then leaned forward so the tip of the cock dragged across her belly. "Want to feel me?"

The sudden sigh of pleased softening that took over all parts of Alex's body--except the erect cock--was a bit of a rush. Alex reached for her. Hands clasping skin, drawing her in, the cock caught between them. Alex kissed her, letting her lube-slick hands slide down Maggie's side, cupping her ass, and sliding her forward until Maggie felt the hard press of silicone between her thighs. A clench inside her asked for it, wanted him  _ now _ . Maggie gasped a little into Alex's neck. "Do you have a condom?"

Alex went stiff like any teenage boy facing a sudden obstacle to getting laid. "Uh."

Maggie sat back a little, making wide eyes at him. 

"I-- yeah. Yeah." Alex groped for the packets Maggie had brought out of the bathroom. "I, um." He tore one open, then fumbled with getting it on. It was so adorable that Maggie couldn't not grin at him.

"You're enthusiastic."

Alex looked up, gaze earnest and young. "I want to be inside you."

Maggie cupped his cheek. "I want that too."

There was some shuffling and scuffling, more lube, and then Maggie was unexpectedly flat on her back on the couch with Alex kneeling between her legs. Maggie slid her hand up under Alex's t-shirt to cup skin, and Alex settled in a little lower, urging Maggie's legs apart, his sheathed, lube-slick cock hovering just above her. Maggie lifted her hips, hooking her heels around his thighs and let the tip slide down her cleft. Alex hesitated there, eyes wide, unsure. "Is this okay?"

Maggie nodded, regarding her pretty boyfriend. "Anything's okay with you, Alex. You're perfect."

The embarrassed grin almost derailed the situation. So Maggie pinched at the soft tummy under her fingers and Alex yelped. Then he scowled, pinning her hands down to the sofa. It sent another lurch of heat through Maggie. Alex liked to play rough, but during sex she was usually too skittish and self-conscious. This was a nice change. Maggie let her head fall back, exposing her throat, ready and waiting. The head of Alex’s cock pressed against her, moving easily into her wetness. And then, all in one movement, he thrust in.

Maggie, suddenly filled, moaned and arched into Alex's hips. He stayed there for a moment, gasping, staring at her, as if she looked different now, as if she looked unexpectedly beautiful. And then, when she'd relaxed around him, Alex slowly drew out again and started to fuck her.

#

"We totally just roleplayed teen boy loses his virginity while his parents aren't home, didn't we?" Maggie asked, propping herself up on her elbow and grinning at her pretty boy.

Alex groaned and put the pillow over her head. "I am so humiliated."

"Aww, it’s okay that you got too excited and came before me. You were a good boy to finish me off with your mouth.” Maggie patted her ass. "Maybe next time you can play a little more experienced. Be my college boyfriend."

Alex looked at her, holding up the pillow just a tad, a soft smile playing on her face. "I'd rather be your grown-up girlfriend."

"Yeah?"

"Most of the time." Alex shifted around her boxer briefs and smiled awkwardly down at them. "I don't mind being your boyfriend sometimes though. If you don't."

"Do I look like I mind?" Maggie patted her cheek, and then, for good measure, patted her ass again. "I like  _ you _ , Alex. My hot secret agent, handsome, twinky, sexy girlfriend. Whatever you want to be, you're perfect."

Alex was blushing now, but she curled up into Maggie, wrapping her arms around her and drawing her in close. "Perfect? Not me. Maybe you."

"No talking bad about my boyfriend now," Maggie murmured into her neck. "I picked you. So if I'm perfect, then I'm right, and you are too."

#

 


	4. Supergirl: Maggie/M’gann: First Times (PG-13)

The first time Maggie found the bar, she hadn't been looking for it. She'd just been running. All she wanted was to get away, away from the town that hated her--the family that rejected her--the girl that outed her. It was raining and she was drenched and muddy, and all she could think about now was finding a bathroom with a hand dryer and standing under it until she could feel her toes again.

"You're not supposed to be in here."

The woman behind the bar was tall--taller than Maggie at least, though that wasn't a challenge--and beautiful. Maggie internally smacked herself for noticing at all. What was the point of looking. No one would ever look back.

"I just need the bathroom. You have a bathroom, right? You have to let me use it. It's the law."

The woman just looked at her, dark eyes taking her in as if they saw right through her, to her skinny wet frame inside her oversized clothes. She sighed. "This one's filthy. Go upstairs." She threw Maggie a key.

Maggie looked at it and then at her, suddenly confused and suspicious.

As Maggie was about to refuse, the woman stopped her. "It's all right," she said. "Take your time. Take a shower. There are some sweats on the dresser. I know what it's like to not have a place to go."

The guarded lies that had been keeping Maggie together shattered at this woman's unfoolability. Maggie wasn’t fine and confident on her own. She was just screwing up running away. Maggie swallowed, feeling suddenly weak, and bent her head, starting upstairs into the small apartment.

She cried in the shower.

When she got out, the woman was in the apartment, and she gave Maggie a mug full of instant hot chocolate.

"You live here?" Maggie asked, suspicious again, but wanting the hot chocolate to warm her up inside. "Alone?"

"I do."

"No family."

"No."

"Why not?"

The woman--Megan, she'd introduced herself as--settled onto the couch, bringing up her legs and crossing them. She sighed. "Because they were bad people and I didn't want to be one of them anymore? Or maybe because I was weak and damaged, and ran away because I couldn't be what they wanted me to be."

"Oh." Maggie looked down at herself. She didn't know which answer was true for her either. Because her parents were assholes and she just wanted to be allowed to be herself, or because there was something wrong with her, and she wasn't strong enough to fix it or get over it.

"You can stay the night if you want."

There was something about the way Megan was looking at her that made Maggie suspicious again. Her eyes were kind, but Maggie didn't believe in kind anymore. It meant she wanted something, didn't she?

That made Maggie feel scared and unsettled. But she didn't want to go back to her aunt's, a place that had been familiar, now made strange because she had nowhere else. She said yes.

Megan made up a bed for her on the couch, and Maggie got in it, feeling small and nervous. Would Megan come to her while she was asleep? Would she ask her for a kiss goodnight? She didn't want to sell her body for a place to stay, but she wanted to  _ know _ . Had she been kicked out, had her life ruined for nothing? What if she didn't really like girls, didn't want to touch them?

(Maybe she could go back and tell her dad she made a mistake.)

Megan didn't come. Maggie lay awake, waiting and unhappy, expecting cool hands on her bare arm, firm force parting her thighs. Nothing.

Eventually, Maggie got out of the bed on the couch and padded in her bare feet to Megan's bedroom. It was dark and cool, chilly even, and she slipped quickly over to the bed, finding the edge of the covers and crawling in.

Megan made a startled noise. "Maggie? What--"

Maggie climbed onto her, the sleep-hot press of her body making Maggie's stomach tumble. "You can have me," Maggie said, her voice coming out so small she could hardly hear it herself. "In exchange for the place to stay. You can have me."

She found Megan's wide eyes reflecting the moon's light and fumbled forward, seeking out a kiss. For a moment, their lips connected, and Megan's hand came up, cupping her cheek. The flush of feeling that rushed through Maggie made it clear--no, it wasn't a mistake. She really was  _ wrong _ . Then Megan was pushing her away, gently, and Maggie was starting to cry.

"Maggie," Megan's voice was soft and as gentle as her hand. "You don't owe me anything."

Maggie snuffled against her tears, protesting confusedly, and tried to go in again for another kiss, but Megan's hand was a firm barrier pressed against her chest. Maggie whimpered.

Megan sighed. Then her arms were around Maggie, pulling her into her chest, warm and sturdy and stable. She held her there, stroking her hair and not saying anything--no optimistic words, nothing that Maggie knew was meaningless. It wasn't comforting, not really. But Megan was a solid presence around her, and Maggie felt safer than she had in weeks.

When Maggie woke up the next morning, Megan was already up, making breakfast. She told Maggie to sit and eat.

"I'm sorry," Maggie said, standing awkwardly. "I shouldn't have-- have done that last night. I shouldn't have kissed you."

Megan gave her a wry look with hundreds of years of being tired behind it. She shook her head. "I forgive you."

Maggie sank into the chair, relief welling up and making her want to cry again. She hadn't cried since she was kicked out. Why couldn't she stop crying  _ now _ ?

"Eat," Megan said. "And then I'll take you back to your aunt's house."

Maggie sighed. She'd run away for a reason, but . . . she should go back. She didn't have anywhere else to be. She ate. The food was pretty weird, but good.

Megan drove oddly too, as if she wasn’t quite certain even about which side of the road to be on. When Maggie knew the way, she was confident, but when they reached a place where Maggie usually cut between buildings, she nearly veered up onto the sidewalk until Maggie squeaked out a protest. But they made it back to the corner just out of sight of her aunt's house, and Maggie, in her now dry clothes, hunched a little, wrapping her arms around her knees. "Thank you for looking after me," she said.

Megan smiled. "You're welcome," she said. "I haven't really spent time with hu--  _ people _  for a long time. Your company was . . . I appreciate it."

Maggie made a face. "Probably not the making you sleep with me part."

Megan grinned. "It was a surprise. But don't worry. You're a pretty girl. You'll find other young women who find you pretty too."

Maggie chewed on her lower lip and ducked her head. She didn't ask about how Megan seemed to know exactly why she'd gotten into her bed without even talking about it. She seemed to know a lot of things like that. "You think I'm pretty?"

"Cute," Megan said, in the way people said it about puppies and children. "But you might grow up pretty. Some day."

Maggie stuck out her tongue and climbed out of the car. "Bye!" she waved, and Megan grinned at her, and then set off driving in her wobbly, swerving way. Maggie started back to her aunt’s house. Running away hadn't worked out. But it hadn't gone as disastrously as it could have.

She took a glance back in the direction that the car had disappeared. And she'd gotten her first kiss from a beautiful woman. Well, she'd taken her first kiss from a beautiful woman. Who . . . might be an alien? Couldn't be sure about that, but the cut off 'humans' was kind of a tell. That was really cool.

Next time, she planned to get more.

#


	5. Supergirl: Lucy/Alura, Sensation play/Anonymous sex

Lucy was never going to trust Cat Grant again. She'd given her the invitation to the party, told her that it was a good place to mingle, that everyone was rich, and she would definitely meet some people who would be interested in promoting her new career. She'd given Lucy a domino mask to wear along with whatever dress she deemed appropriate. And Lucy, like the dumbass new council on her staff (who was also newly single and not really enjoying it), showed up, handed over her invite without reading it thoroughly, and walked into the masqued ball that was also, indubitably, a fetish party.

So much for networking.

The whole place was chaos. Lucy had made a few connections at fetish parties in her time, but it wasn’t like you could walk right up and introduce yourself. Aliases and anonymity were some of the prerequisites here. And this party seemed even worse than the others she’d been to.

Most of the action was confined to a ballroom where nothing particularly risque was going on, but there were halls along each side, with private alcoves, curtained off. The sounds from them--slaps and cries and moans--mixed into the too loud music. Lucy put her hand on her forehead and breathed out stiffly. No wonder Cat had decided to not show up. 

It had been arduous to get here--no surprise why, now--and she'd spent at least an hour getting ready. Fuck this. At least there was an open bar.

Lucy made her way across the space, through the moving people, avoiding touching any of them. A guy grabbed her ass. As she whirled, she saw a whip come down on his hand and he started to go down to the floor to beg forgiveness, and Lucy was fucking out of there. She was not interested in getting involved in anyone else's scene. That was not her jam. And it was also really not cool either. They should know better than that.

The seats at the bar were mostly open, but there was a line of subs going one by one, very politely, to the bored looking bartender. They all looked like suits who were entirely amused at the concept of waiting for a drink. They didn’t look like they’d ever waited for a drink in their lives before. Lucy climbed into the stool, took off her domino mask and pinched her nose to try to make the headache go away.

"Did you want to get a drink?"

Lucy looked up. There was a woman seated two stools down, her chin in her hand, watching her through a slightly askew mask. Lucy hesitated, not entirely sure how to answer that question. It could have a wide variety of implications, and committing herself to one interpretation in this environment seemed dangerous.

"Because the bartender is pretty occupied." The woman rose up on the ring around the bottom of her bar stool, and reached over the bar and down, snagging a glass from the rack. She set it on a coaster in front of Lucy, then reached over again and took the nearby water nozzle and filled it. One bartender glanced over, looked uninterested, and turned back to the line of suit-subs. "You looked like you needed that."

"Uh, thanks." Lucy said and hesitantly sipped at it. It  _ was _ a dehydration headache, and she felt it start to subside pretty quickly. She kept her gaze away from the woman, not wanting to invite an advance or something awkward. The woman didn't follow up the offer of a drink though. Lucy waited, a little confused. Maybe she had just been being . . . helpful? She glanced over.

The woman was sitting in a very particular position, back straight, her gaze dropped down towards her knees below the bar where her hands were also. Lucy stared. 

"Are you  _ reading? _ "

The woman startled, looking at her, guilt visible behind her mask. 

Lucy covered her face and snorted into her hands. "You're reading. What are you reading?"

Lucy was treated to a flash of cover that seemed to have a spaceship on it. "Sci-Fi?"

"Look, I didn't have any influence in the choice of theme this month. But I'm on the board, so I had to come. And everyone plays up being so worried about me after my divorce when I don't come out to these things. So I just . . . brought better company."

That was all kind of hilarious. But Lucy was distracted by one of the comments the woman had made. "Wait," she said. "The theme? Fetish is the theme?"

The woman, who was on the board, nodded, a concerned expression on what Lucy could see of her face. 

"I was  _ wondering _ why no one was behaving right. And the play area isn't cordoned off. They just rented the space-- ugh, people are totally just fooling around with the equipment. That's unhygienic."

Lucy froze, suddenly realizing the implications of what she’d been saying. She looked over to the woman who was watching her, an oddly amused smile on her face.

"You didn't know it was the theme?"

Lucy frowned. "I'm new in town. Someone gave me tickets. I figured it was a generic event until I got in. No one warned me that you had  _ themes _ ."

"But you identified the inaccuracies." The woman's mouth twitched. "I take it you've been to real fetish parties before."

Lucy shut her eyes. She was doing a great job at networking. She'd already managed to out herself as a libertine to someone on the board of whatever civic institution was hosting this thing. "I kind of walked into that."

The woman laughed, as if she didn't care one bit. That was . . . unexpected, at a party where kink was treated as an exotic aesthetic, from a woman who was so resistant to the theme that she brought a book to distract her from the play perversion surrounding her. Unless she'd brought a book because the aesthetic was too familiar to be anything but boring.

Lucy slowly leaned back against the bar and took another sip of her water. "I'd say 'it wasn't like that', but it was totally like that. I'll still blame my ex though."

"You know I read science fiction now, so mutually assured destruction?"

Lucy narrowed her eyes at the woman. Her response was still only amused. It wasn't judgmental at all, or even surprised really. But she was keeping her own experiences--if there were any--close to the vest. "I think you have a bit of a stronger weapon there."

The woman made a wry face. She let her fingers arpeggio down the side of her glass. "It's true, but I do hate to relinquish the upper hand."

There was a tone in her voice, a slight edge to it, that shot right into Lucy and hit those keys inside of her that very few people had ever been allowed to play. Lucy swallowed. 

The woman was tall, long legs coming down the stool. The dress she wore was clearly expensive, but she wore it as if she was entirely comfortable in it. The lines of her jaw were sharp and well formed. Her mouth was mobile and expressive. Lucy wished she could see her eyes, but not being able to be sure of her expression or where she was looking made the sense of risk grow to fill Lucy's stomach with a quavering sensitivity.

"Maybe," Lucy said, laying down a challenge, entirely unsure if it was the right thing to do. "If I meet anyone else on the board, I'll have to mention what I saw. Reading at a party? You must be shy and scared and hurt, and so damaged from your divorce. You need them to take care of you. Put you on purely social responsibilities. Real board business is just too much for you right now."

The woman's jaw dropped and she sat up straighter. "Oh, now that's cruel." She grinned at Lucy. "I think we must be even now--if you'd dare to make the next two years of my life a misery."

"Did I go too far?" Lucy paused, eyes skittering away. She let her voice drop and dared to say it. "Am I in trouble?"

The woman hesitated. She tipped her head to the side. "Do you want to be in trouble?"

Oh no. She was going to make Lucy be even more explicit. Lucy sat up straight, lifting her chin, looking up towards the woman. "Only if you will take responsibility for me."

The woman was silent for a long moment, then she reached out. Her fingertips, soft and smooth, ran across Lucy's cheek and down the side of her neck. Lucy forced herself to breathe evenly and not to gasp. 

"All right."

The woman slid off her stool and put her book into her handbag. She offered Lucy a slight smile, almost imperious in its curve. "Come," she said, and started off towards the hall on the side of the ballroom.

Lucy sat for a moment, grasping the bottom of the bar stool's seat. She tried to catch her breath and her composure. Her mouth hung open. What had she just gotten herself into?

She kind of was hoping it was something good.

#

Lucy caught up to the woman as she was speaking to one of the uniformed attendants and giving him what looked like a sizeable tip in exchange for a key.

She then unlocked a door to a private room, and stepped inside. She beckoned. Lucy, stomach upside-down, obeyed.

When the door fell shut, the music and noise from outside was muted. The woman sighed, seeming to relax. She rolled her shoulders and then peeled off her shoes, stretching bare feet against the hardwood floor. Lucy stared at her feet and was certain right then that if this ended up being a full-contact hookup, she was really okay with that, even without seeing the whole of the woman's face or knowing her name.

"I hope you don't mind. It's so hard to hear anything out there. I don't even know what I'm supposed to call you."

"Lucy," Lucy said. "You can call me Lucy."

The woman smiled as if there was something she liked about the name. And Lucy felt like she'd done something right, when she had only told her her name. Her actual name, when she had totally been given the opportunity to use an alias.

"I'm sorry if this makes me less intimidating," the woman flexed her feet. "I just couldn't bear standing in them any longer. And I don't suppose I need the extra height with you." She took a step forward, just enough to make Lucy have to tip her head back to look at her face. Lucy was still in her heels, and the woman was tall enough that she still had to look up. 

A touch caressed her face, soft and seeking along her jawline. It pulled away, too quickly, and Lucy barely caught a sound of protest before it left her lips.

"I'm sorry. I just--" the woman ducked her head. "I don't know why I keep touching you like that. It's inappropriate."

"I don't mind." Lucy swallowed. "I came here with you. You can do what you want with me."

"You aren't in  _ that _ much trouble." The woman shook her head. "Are you really certain? I feel that you must be trying to tempt me into some scandal."

"What?  _ No _ ." Lucy made a face. "And really, if you'd ever have a good excuse to get caught with a girl tied up on her knees for you, the fetish themed party is a place to do it."

"Is that where you'd like to be?" the woman's voice had gone low and intent. "Tell me what it is you like."

Then, before Lucy could answer, the woman was turning, moving over to the wooden cabinets built into the wall. Then she was back, coming up behind Lucy, who tried to turn, but a brusque sound of negation stopped her. She stayed where she was as the woman stood at her back, and placed something soft and opaque over her eyes.

Lucy let out a breath and with it a small shaky sound. "I-- I like to feel things. I don't like it to hurt though." She hesitated. "I don't like it to  _ just _ hurt." And that was farther than she'd let it go with anyone.

"Right." The woman's hand found her face again, smoothing over her cheek and down her throat. Sight cut off, the sensation was even more arresting, the touch like velvet, dark as the cloth that covered her eyes. Then her hands slipped down Lucy's bare arms, to the bangles she'd put around her wrists. The woman brought them together, and Lucy relaxed her shoulders, letting her wrists cross at the small of her back. More fabric was tied around them. 

Shit, she'd forgotten what this felt like. Just enough tension that she could feel the strain in her muscles from the unfamiliar position. Every inch of skin exposed by her strapless dress was sensitive to any movement of air, any change in temperature.

She wasn't supposed to want to feel like this near someone she didn't know. But she wasn't afraid. She liked the touch of the woman's hands.

"Talk to me."

"What?" This was not a command she was really familiar with. 

The woman laughed a little. "Sorry. I just think it's strange sometimes, to play with another person like a toy. Tell me something. Let me know you're here."

"I'm the one who can't see you."

"Yes." Lucy could hear the smile in the woman's voice. "But I promise you won't forget I'm here."

That was the kind of threat Lucy was here for. She searched around for something to say, and then she just talked. 

"Um, I don't know what book it was you were reading, but I like Sci-Fi too. I, um, I particularly like some of the short fiction about aliens. I'm not sure-- I know why. Humans are so strange sometimes. I feel like when you see something that's outside any of our experiences, you get this sense of what humanity is by what it's not. Sometimes I wish it was."

Lucy rambled, saying anything that came into her head. As she did, there were more light brushes of fingertips on her skin, a rub up and down the nape of her neck, right along her hairline. Each time the touch came as a surprise or the feeling was more than she'd expected, Lucy stumbled on her words. But the woman wouldn't touch her again until she found more things to say.

"Can you kneel?"

The woman held her, guiding her across the room, and then balanced her as Lucy wobbled slowly down to her knees. The one thing she could do with her hands tied behind her back was flick off her shoes, so she did. The release was lovely.

"Ugh, you know how short I am. So I'm always wearing heels. I don't even think about it anymore. Thick or thin, depending on the terrain, but I always need an extra two inches just for some people to look me in the eye."

The woman guided her forward until Lucy's shoulders were resting against a cushioned surface. 

"But right now I feel everything, and just taking off--" Lucy choked. " _ Fuck _ ."

Something liquid and chilled ran down her back, following the clefts made by her drawn back shoulders. It pooled at the base of her spine, and Lucy gasped. She rested against the surface, fighting her breath, trying to force it towards evenness. But the icy liquid had sent spikes of cold into her, shocking her from a low burning arousal into a hot one.

"Let me clean you up." Something warm and damp pressed between her shoulderblades. Lucy groaned as the warm cloth rubbed down her back, dipping under her dress, chasing the liquid, right to where the line of her underwear crossed her ass.

"You weren't kidding that I wouldn't forget you're here," Lucy managed. It had shifted in those two touches from casual sensation play that was pleasing in itself to deep seated arousal. She needed more. She wanted to be held down and taken. They really should have talked this through before they started.

"I wouldn't want you to."

The woman's voice did things to Lucy that she'd be happy to admit, if it could guarantee this turning into naked athletic activities. And there was something rougher in it now, something intense, as if the woman was also aroused by this; as if she found Lucy's reactions absorbing. 

"Can you-- can you touch me more?" Lucy asked.

"Lean back." 

Lucy obeyed, and something scalding dripped across the tops of her breasts.

"Oh!"

"Not too much?"

"N-- no." Lucy gulped. Another drip, and each one sent a pulse right down into Lucy's core. She was aching. Slowly, fingers peeled away the coating from the burned skin. Something icy cold, like a chain, was laid around her neck, in circles. Lucy shivered, half shaking. And then a soft warm touch on her throat.

Lucy couldn't take this anymore. "Kiss me."

"I--" the hesitation, the confusion in the voice was unbearable. Lucy swore silently inside her head. They should have talked about boundaries. If the woman came into this thinking it was just play, and Lucy wanted to suddenly turn it into sex, that wasn't going to make anything easy. And Lucy, on her knees, overstimulated and far too aroused, and  _ needing _ this, was not at her most articulate at the moment.

"Please."

A warm hand on her cheek. The sensation of breath on her face. Then the touch, the rub of smoothly made up lips against her own, warmth, softness. The woman was kissing her. 

Lucy kissed back. Teeth tugged at her lower lip, and Lucy couldn't help the rough sound in her chest. It was too needy, too clearly ready to be taken, and it would put the woman off if she was still hesitant. But the woman pressed into her again, eagerly, urgently. The brush of her tongue over her mouth made Lucy's lips part, made her open, rise to meet her--and then there were hands clutching at her ribcage, as if the woman needed to hold Lucy still while she kissed her. She didn't need to. Lucy wasn't going anywhere. She was ready to be guided into any position--flat on her back or face to the floor both sounded good--offer any service--

Then the worst sound. The buzzing of a phone.

The kiss ended, but the woman stayed for a moment, forehead to forehead with Lucy. Then she was gone, her warmth and presence disappearing in a rush of air. "Yes. No, I'm still here. Of course. Five minutes? Fine."

Then there was another moment of silence. "I'm sorry, Lucy."

Lucy forced herself to breathe. "I-- it's fine. I . . . good to stop now, or I wouldn't have been happy without you going do--" No, she shouldn't say that. "Um. Good to stop now."

Even the slight huff of breath the woman made sounded amused. She was close again, unbinding Lucy's wrists and taking the blindfold away from her eyes. And then, to Lucy's shock, the woman put her arms around her, gathering her close to her chest.

"Thank you, Lucy," she murmured. "I enjoyed that, very much. I didn't expect to enjoy anything about tonight."

Lucy buried her face in her neck and tried to recover more quickly. She hadn't subbed in ages, and this had been unexpectedly intense. "Same," she managed, just barely.

The woman laughed. "You were far more voluble when I was teasing you. What happened to your dissertations on how aliens show us humanity?"

Lucy groaned and burrowed further into the woman's neck.

They stayed that way, holding on, for another minute at least. Then the woman sighed. "I have to go."

Lucy nodded. "Of course." She extracted herself, adjusting her dress and trying to do something about her hair. The woman had been careful, but a bit had still come loose.

Her lipstick was smeared like a wound.

The woman fixed her own, then slipped into her shoes and left Lucy with a squeeze to her arm.

Lucy stood in the private room for another five minutes at least before she put her own shoes back on and departed. The pretend fetish party was still going strong, but she didn't feel like staying anymore.

In the shower, she found marks on her breasts from the hot wax.

#

"Have fun last night?"

Lucy glowered at Cat. "You could have  _ told _ me that it was the board's great idea to have a fetish theme night."

"I could have." Cat smiled. "But then I wouldn't get to see your face like this today."

Lucy groaned.

"Right," the lead council said. "We're just waiting for the county prosecutor, and then we'll get started. I'm sure we can manage this no problem. Lane? You ready with the opening?"

"All set," Lucy said. 

Then the door opened, and suddenly Lucy wasn't all set anymore.

"Right," the lead council said. "This is county prosecutor, Alura In-Ze. Alura, this is our new assistant council, Lucy Lane. Don't chew her up and spit her out too quickly."

There was no mistaking it. It was the woman from last night. And if the mask had done any work at all to disguise her, Lucy would have known with the way Alura froze, suddenly horrified, at the sight of Lucy.

Dreadfully, this woman, in her short grey jacket and slacks, soft hair feathering down her back and sharply delineated eyeliner--and fuck, Lucy was glad she hadn't been able to see her eyes properly last night or she would have made an even bigger fool of herself--was even hotter than she had been all dressed up for the party. "Ah--" Lucy tried, knowing she sounded like an idiot. "Um, hi?"

The twist of involuntary amusement on the woman's lips was so familiar that it felt like Lucy had run into a long lost friend, not an ill-advised assignation. Alura held out her hand to shake, and Lucy took it.

"I've heard good things about you," Alura said. "Particularly that I need to be on my guard when you start to talk. Silver-tongued they say. Still--" Alura's grip tightened on her hand rather than released and she leaned a little forward, letting her height do the work of intimidation for her. "--I can't say you've impressed me yet with your conversation."

"No?" Lucy pressed her hand even more firmly in return. This had turned into a competition. "Perhaps you just haven't suitably motivated me yet. I've heard I respond quite . . . emphatically to certain stimuli."

The pleased amusement spread even further across Alura's face. "Well then, I'll have to push you, I suppose."

"Are you that excited to see what I can do with my tongue?" And oops, that was not subtle at all. The lead council made an awkward noise, and Cat was hiding her face behind a copy of her own magazine, but her eyes were dancing.

"Quite definitely," Alura said, laughing at her. She released her hand and flicked her fingers at Lucy. "Aren't you to start?" She settled into a chair and crossed her legs. "Go on, impress me."

Face as hot as fire, Lucy hid back in her chair, pulled up the opening, and began the presentation.

#

For a day that had begun ignominiously, it was ending . . . slightly less ignominiously?

They'd pulled through the presentation, and once Lucy had relaxed a bit, she'd been able to counter the prosecutor's questions and assertions competently enough. In the end, Alura had said she didn't see a major problem with the plan, and that CatCo should go ahead without undue worry about governmental interference. Then Cat and Alura had disappeared off together for lunch and Lucy had avoided the curious looks from the lead council and gone back to her office to hyperventilate and hide her head in shame.

"Excuse me." A soft knock had come on her open door. Alura was standing in the entrance, looking in. "I apologize if I'm bothering you."

"I-- Uh-- No. Not at all." Lucy rose, coming out from behind her desk to meet her, and cursed herself for developing a stammer around this woman. It was the talking, she guessed. Alura had made her talk while she turned switches on her body until the talking function had failed. And now it was like a short circuit that sparked and died whenever she walked into the room.

The door clicked shut behind her. And that was either great or terrible.

"I just thought we should clear the air about last night."

So, it was terrible.

"Ah-- nothing to clear. It was . . . nice. And that can be that?"

Alura's shoulders relaxed in a way that said it was what she'd wanted to hear. That was disappointing too.

"It's all right," Lucy said. "Your secret Sci-Fi novel reading habit is safe with me."

Alura didn't laugh, or even smile. Instead, a line drew in her forehead, consternation, it seemed.

Lucy hesitated, confused.

Then, in two steps, Alura was right there, in her space. A hand cupped the side of her neck, a thumb tucking under her chin and pushing her head up, and then she was being kissed.

The surprise was almost too much for a few moments, but then Lucy's hands were up, in Alura's hair, and she was kissing back. So distracted by her mouth, Lucy almost didn't notice the hands moving to her thighs, the way they slid up under her skirt, the grip, the lift--oh no, she was strong too. And the backs of Lucy's legs hit her desk and she was sitting on it, her skirt scrunched up, Alura between her knees, hands up on her thighs under her skirt, vibrating as they ran over her nylons, and Lucy was fiercely untucking the back of Alura's shirt too, so she could get her hands on skin, so she could  _ touch _ her, like she'd wanted to do for  _ hours _ .

A force on her shoulder, and Lucy was on her back on her desk, and Alura--not quite intentionally from the yelp--came down with her. They cracked chins. Lucy groaned, a little winded.

“Sorry,” Alura muttered. “I told you I’m terrible in heels.”

She started to move, but Lucy wrapped her legs around her and didn’t let her. "You know," Lucy said. "This is hot and all. But maybe we could go on a date or something?"

Alura propped herself up on her elbows and looked down at Lucy. "You want to go on a date?"

Lucy looked back at her and did a little bit of math. Alura was ferociously toppy and really good at it, but also recently divorced and asked for permission for nearly everything. It didn't mean she was surprised or didn't want it. It just meant she was careful.

"Definitely," Lucy said, as if she had no chance of being turned down.

The smile she got made the forced confidence totally worth it. Alura buried her face into Lucy's shoulder, not making any move to get off of her. Lucy was squashed and uncomfortable, pretty sure she was lying on at least two pencils. She kind of loved it.

"Cat is never going to let me live this down," Alura mumbled into her hair.

"Dude, she sent me to a fake fetish party without even a hint of warning. She's a jerk. Tell her to shut up."

Alura laughed, then shifted up again, hovering over Lucy. "I can't say I hate that she did." She leaned down and pressed a kiss to Lucy's lower lip, then shifted up her body to come at her mouth from a slightly different angle. The tiny pleading sound that came out of Lucy probably would have been embarrassing, but Alura just caught her lip between her teeth, tugged at it, and then kissed her again.

No. Lucy really couldn't hate Cat for this at all.

#

 


End file.
